What can be from what will be
by Rose Unspindle
Summary: The Seer had told Rumpelstitltskin that he had to learn to sift through what might be for what will be, but the future isn't certain and the Seer is playing with loaded dice, she wants rid of her curse, and she's needs Rumpel for that, but what is he wasn't there, what if he'd already become a hero?


What could happen and what will be

The rains had come heavily that year, it was a relief and a curse, for the rains dampened the fires of the frontlines, giving the illusion of safety, and a curse for everything was muck and mud. Several people had already died due to the unrelenting rain. Rotten food, sickness, fatal or crippling falls, they had seen them all this year.

Weaver/Spinner Rumpelstiltskin was walking home from town, the slip of paper that was his hope held reverently in against his chest in an attempt to keep it dry. He was taking one of the back ways, hoping to use the time to come up with a good way to let Milah know he would be leaving in the morning.

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he jumped and fell flat on his arse when the shriek of both woman and beast rang out, the dismayed cries of a donkey along with the wails of a frighten woman.

He'd barely gotten his feet back under himself before he was running a slipping further up the path, only to freeze again at the sight that met him. Mora, mother of little Moraine and a recent widow of the rain, was halfway down the side of the valley, were the edge of the road has simply washed away, her donkey was in a dead panic, miring itself further into the side, causing more mud to shove down at Mora and her little daughter, whom the woman held tightly to her chest as she clung to the steadily sliding wagon.

"Mora!" He called, even as he searched frantically for a way to either haul her up, or get near enough to her without condemning himself. Finally, his brain connected several trees on which he could brace himself and use to both get down to the woman, and to crawl back up. Plan decided, he began his decent, calling out to Mora again, when he realized she'd never answered.

This time she heard him, renewing her cries, even as little Moraines joined her mother's efforts. Above him, even as he kept his eyes on his targeted trees, he could here others gathering at the edge of the road, some called that they would bring rope and Rumple risked a wave of his hand to show he'd heard. Closer and closer he got, the way got steeper and the mud slicker.

Finally! There at last, he'd reached the nearest tree to where the where the wagon was, looking back he realized that he was nearly five trees further down than he'd originally estimated, the mud was moving much quicker than he'd thought.

There was still a space between him and the wagon and no convenient trees to get him there, and then he realized; of course, his cloak! Dragging the muddy, sodden thing off, he quickly pulled it out to its longest length. As he did so, something wet and cold hit the side of his he'd, luckily he didn't jump, glancing down in growing happiness at the end of a rope. Smiling, he ties the end around his waist, hoping that even if he or Mora truly began to fall, that would save them, quickly he tied to thick knots of either end of his cloak, hoping that it would give them each a firmer handhold, then hauling his arm back, he prepared to toss the cloak.

"Mora! I'm going to toss you one end of my cloak, keep hold, and then I'll drag you over. We've got rope from the others, so they can pull us up!"

Mora nodded frantically, her fear having finally robbed her of her voice.

Rumpel quickly tossed the end of the cloak, happy to see it reach Mora on the first try, he carefully braced his feet and was about to start pulling her across the space when the donkey, having found purchase on something, heaved itself almost entirely out of the mud, giving a huge kick to the wagon, and sending both the wagon and itself, down the slope. Mora screamed as the wagon over turned and Rumpel watched in horror as one of the donkey's flailing hooves caught her in the head, with a desperate cry he launched himself to the wagon, managing to catch mother and daughter, shielding them with his own body as the wagon turned completely over, everything was a mess mud all around, the donkey crying, Mora bleeding and little Moraine screaming in terror. Something crunched in his leg and his middle was burning from what he vaguely recognized as the rope. Somehow the wagon flipped over again, and his leg began burning in earnest, but at least they were no longer trapped by it, leaving one arm still hooked around Mora, he raised the other, grasping the rope, and managing to right them a little more, and began using the not-injured leg to try to propel them forward

At long last they reached to top, more mud that people and hands began patting at them, he cried out when someone had to cut the rope, and blacked out when another touched his leg.

When he woke, it was to Milah's tear stained face.

"Wha..what happened?" He asked; his head felt heavy, all of him felt heavy.

Milah gave a hiccoughing laugh. "You went a decided to be a hero is what, you save little Moraine, you know, everyones talking about it, how you wouldn't let go, oh Rumpel they had to cut the rope out of your side! And your leg…Rumpel your leg…"

Rumpel closed his eyes, he could feel it now. "I'm crippled aren't I?"

Milah nodded, tears dripping down her face. "Yes, I think so the doctor and the midwife both checked and they're pretty sure, it's to damaged to ever be usable, it's still there though, and you should be able to walk, just not…well."

Rumpel nodded, trying to process it all at least he still had his arms and his hands, he could still spin, he could still support his wife. Thinking of Milah had him going over what she'd said. He blinked.

"Milah, you said I saved Moraine, what of Mora?" He asked.

Milah shook her head. "They think the donkey kicked her head," Rumpel nodded, he'd seen that. "She was already dead when you brought her up."

"What of little Moraine?" He asked. Poor baby, lost Mother and Father before she could even know what she'd lost.

Milah blinked, and then gave a small, hopeful smile. "Well, we'd been talking of starting a family, and you did save her, so I thought, everyone thought, that maybe, we would keep her? She's no living kin. The other women have already gone over to pack up her parents things, and Donavan has said he'll give us a goat, so that she'll have milk…"

She trailed off, the hope in her eyes unmistakable. Rumpel sighed. Not that way he had intended to begin a family with Milah, but it would be okay, they would get through this, and they'd make sure that their, and he smiled, their _daughter _knew of her other parents.

Seeing his smile, Milah turned and picked something up, turning back to him to slowly settle the sleeping baby against his un(less)damaged side.

The baby sighed, a snuggled against him.

He jolted suddenly, the front! He was to have reported for training!

"Milah, I was drafted, I was…"

"Hush now," she said, pressing her fingertips to his lips. "The blacksmith's son was drafted too and he carries letter from the doctor and the midwife, explain what happened, that you decided to be a hero ahead of schedule. No one will expect you to fight with that leg."

With that last worry settled, and the warmth of being a father, and of all things, a hero filled him up and slipped into sleep.

The little seer, trapped in her wagon prison, clenched her teeth in fury. She had planned! She had waited! Rumpelstiltskin was to have come here! So she could lead him to the path of the Dark One, so he could take this curse from her. Now, now she was still trapped, and the future was foggy as to what might happen, Rumpelstiltskin woulkd still become the Dark One, that she knew, but he would have no cause to seek her out, to want this power, for even as the Dark One, he would have his sons and daughters, he would not covet power…oh…curse the rain…


End file.
